Camellia
by Vsquared-k
Summary: Broken Moral Compass. Wiped Figurative Memory Drives. Who am I? Sometimes... I wonder if 'I' is different from 'me'. The before me. The thrill of 'I' probably can't be matched...  Rated for Language, but is subject to change.
1. Waking up for the first time

**DISCLAIMER:** Is not mine.

* * *

"Be-beep! Be-beep!"

.

.

.

"Be-beep! Be-beep!"

There's that infernal beeping; it's highly annoying. I mean, it's been going on since I became conscious, which was five minutes ago. I've spent the time acclimating, really, and becoming aware of my surroundings. From what I gather, it's a large room, there's a ceiling fan, something attached to my arm, and that infernal beeping.

Other than that, there isn't much, really. I think I might be in a hospital... At least some sort of health care facility.

There's someone coming... Footsteps, then the sound of a door unlatching, and squeaking shut. No talking yet... Maybe there's an order for silence? I'm not sure... A nearby chair scrapes on the floor as the person pulls it out and collapses on it. They, whoever it is, let out a frustrated sigh. I can almost see the squeezing going on at the bridge of their nose. They sound tired... Perhaps they would like to use the bed? I'm highly rested, anyway...

There's an everlasting silence, except for the whirring of the ceiling fan, and the infernal beeping. I'm about to nod off again, though it would be rude with someone else in the room. I highly doubt it's my fault, they haven't said anyth-

"Please wake up..."

The voice, from that someone in the chair, is quiet, forlorn, and more than slightly defeatist. Like they'd already said it many times, but haven't yet had a satisfactory response. Like all hope is lost or something... I think it's about time I respond positively then...

I open my eyes slowly, and wait for my eyes to focus. The ceiling is grey, like authentic stone. There's even stalactites... Stalagmites... Whichever one hangs from the ceiling, it's here. And quite impressively real looking. I look over to my someone on a chair, and see a pale raven-haired girl wearing green, black, and a look of fear and surprise. Judging from her tone before, I can understand the latter, but why is there fear? She looks ready to bolt!

I open my mouth to try and say something to... Well, stop her from running like an impala chased by lions, really, but nothing comes out. I lick my lips, which, by the way, feel like parchment or something else ridiculously dry, and try again to say something. Apparently my throat is as dry as my lips are... Darn it!

Apparently my frustration is showing on my face, because she jumps up quickly, and runs for the door. She can't go! She looks hurt beyond anything... I can't let her go! I swallow air, and try one more time, if only to stop her from leaving. I don't know why I'd rather she not leave, but that doesn't matter at the moment.

"Wait..."

I sound like a frog, which is humiliating, but she stops, so I guess it's worth it. But that was hell on my throat... It hurts like fire ants now. I turn my head and cough into my pillow. Dry coughs, ones that nearly cause your spleen to rupture, and sound like your lung is going to fall out your mouth, with the strength of the coughs. The coughs make my throat worse, but thankfully she gets the picture. She mumbles something about getting a drink, then goes.

I'm left as an invalid, hacking up lungs and kidneys, until she returns soon enough with a tall plastic glass with a bendy straw. I look at her gratefully, and take a sip. It's not normal water... Slightly fizzy, and quite tasty. Watered down something that I can't place, but it's good!

Several swallows of silence later, she sits down. She seems less frustrated now, but I can tell she's being cautious. Dunno why, but she is; her back is way too straight to be relaxed. It might help if... Well, she introduced herself. I'd never forget someone as pretty as her, that's for sure!

I smile at her. "Thanks for the drink... It felt like I hadn't had anything to drink for, like, a year, so it was really useful."

She smirks, which looks incredibly natural on her face, and relaxes. She says something about how it's actually been several months, but that I was close enough, doy (whatever that means...). Then she sobers right up and tells me that I was in a coma for the last couple months. For some odd reason, this doesn't bother me much, and neither does her horrid bedside manner. What she asks next is very bothersome, though.

"Do you want to call your family, friends or whatever? To let them know you're ok?"

That simple question causes me to turn pale, which she notices pretty quickly. I... don't remember... who I could call. Or, for that matter, who I am, now that I think about it.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?"

"I know you, don't I?" She nods slowly, confusion evident. "I don't remember you... or my family, or... me." I choke up. "Who my friends are, what my favourite color is, how old I am, none of it!" Crap. Tears. That's just not cool... But now that they're here, there's no stopping them. I turn away from the beautiful stranger that I apparently know, and bawl.

Strong, warm arms engulf me, and her voice worms its way into my ear through my confused anguish, whispering welcome words of comfort, but I can't stop crying until I cry myself to sleep.

I'd like to say that I'm calmer after that rest, but... Now that I've noticed that I don't remember anything, it's the only thing on my mind. I open my eyes again, and, sure enough, I'm still in the bed, next to the infernal beeping, which I assume can only be a heart rate monitor. It's still incredibly annoying, and it's just making me feel like panicking... I'm sure the nurses in this odd health care establishment will understand, I need to rip it apart. Stupid sensor!

A sudden deafening tone rips through the air... I just sigh, since I should have known this would happen. I sit up and grab the little plastic cup, sipping some more of the no-longer-cold now-very-flat still-very-delicious drink as I wait for someone to show up.

I don't wait very long. "Kimmy! Oh my God, Kimmy!" My pretty stranger-friend rushes into the room, panicking and frantic. I wave at her, slightly shy.

"Hi... Um..."

"God, princess, don't do that to me!" She unplugs the machine and slumps down on the seat, obviously relieved. "You scared me shitless!"

"Sorry? The thing was getting a little annoying..." I pause in thought... she'd said something, something like a name. "So my name's Kimmy?"

She shakes her head. "You're still an amnesiac then..." she mutters.

"So it's not my name?" I respond, slightly confused.

"Camellia." I look at her, eyebrow raised. "your name is Camellia, like the flower?" I nod. "Everyone calls you Cammy... Though it does sound like Kimmy, now that you mention it."

"Do I have a last name?"

She smirks, shaking her head. "You'd think so, right? But you never told me... We've known each other for so long, but I've yet to know your last name. For all I know, Camellia isn't even your real name."

I look at her, confused. What's that supposed to mean?

"In our line of work, letting someone know too much can be dangerous."

My eyebrow is going to be stuck in this position at this rate, and I'll always look like I'm confused. Not a good look, I'm sure.

"I'm Shego, internationally wanted master thief, and you, my dear Cammy, are my partner in crime."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Why Yes! I am starting a new story! Only because I've been seeing all these amnesia plots EVERYWHERE... and the good guy rarely becomes the amnesiac. It's about as rare as the good guy becoming enticed by evil. So, according to mathematics, the likelihood of the hero becoming an amnesiac, forgetting everything, and becoming evil is incredibly low (to the n-th degree), especially in the KP fandom, because we all love Kim the Good. SO, because I'm doing a fundamental character study on Shego, I'm going to try and do one on Kim too. Character studies, pushing envelopes, that kind of thing. There will be more romance in this one than 'Life and Times...', that's for sure.

It's kinda short, again... and this was kinda spur-of-the-moment, and I'm not entirely sure where it's going... so if you guys have any ideas, I'd love to hear them! *reads previous paragraph* Oh... there's a spoiler already! Heh, whoops... And it's staying in 'Cam's point of view the whole time, so you won't get as much exposition as you may like.

_NEXT CHAPTER!_: Things... get a little more heated. Slightly. And Kim gets better... kinda.


	2. That squelching sound

**Disclaimer:** Wherein the author is adamant in the fact that they own nothing to do with the story, except possibly the angle for the story.

* * *

My jaw can't get any lower at the moment. I mean, that can't be true! A thief? A _master thief_? That's just impossible! I'd remember something like tha-

Wait. I don't remember anything at all.

I close my mouth with a lot of effort, and compose myself as best I can, sipping as I think. This could very well be true... but how would I know? She's got to show me proof... I can't just take her word for it. I raise my point to her, and she laughs. _Laughs!_ At me! Not that I know who I am...

"It's a lot to process, I know. I'll get you that proof, but don't worry about it for now, cupcake, because I'm going to need to re-teach you some important stuff, and we need you at top physical condition again." She reaches for my hand, and begins playing with my palm. "Just worry about getting better for now, ya?"

I nod mutely, watching and feeling everything that she's doing with my hand. There's that comfortable silence again, with her concentrating on my hand, and me too... puzzled? amused? to want to interrupt her.

Her sudden jump onto her feet made me double take. She's out the door, leaving me alone with ... I think she'd said something about food. At the thought of something to eat, my stomach abruptly rumbles loudly. She'd mentioned a few months without drinking liquids... that means months without eating anything, right? So I'm hooked up to an IV... I didn't notice _that_ the first time I looked around.

I move some pillows to support my back... I'd gotten uncomfortable. As I finish, my stranger-frie... Shego walks back in with a tray of food. It looks like fruit, some sandwich thing, and soup. Before I have time to think, she tosses an apple at me... and I catch it, too. I stare at the thing; I didn't even ... I just reacted! I look over at her, and she smiles genuinely, not smirky like the first couple times.

"Your reflexes are still amazing... that's a good sign." Oh, so it was a test. That makes sense... and you'd need reflexes if you're a thief, I'd imagine. I go to eat the apple, but before I can eat it, it's not in my hand anymore. I glare at her as she plays with it. She'd taken it from right under my nose! "Thief, remember? Besides, soup first, then the sandwich, and by then I'll have the apple and other fruit ready for you, okay?" I grudgingly agree, and when I'm finished the chicken noodle soup and the chicken salad sandwich (obsession with chickens?), she has the apple peeled and in slices, the orange cut, and the grapes off the vine.

Just as I reach for a slice of apple, she slaps my hand away. "What? Why not? I finished my soup! and the sandwich! And you said!1" I pause... I'm acting like ... How embarrassing. I can feel my cheeks getting warm. I even have her looking at me like I'm being a petulant child! CHANGE OF TOPIC! "By the way, do you have some freakish obsession with poultry? I mean, there was chicken in the sandwich _and_ the soup..."

She looks at my ever reddening face, and laughs. "No, I don't, and... as for why? I want to feed my girlfriend. Is that allowed?"

Hold the phone. Girlfriend? As in romantic-person-of-interest? Sweetheart of the female persuasion? Oh. "I... thought those fruit things were for me...?" She nods, evidently amused. "So they're for me... so..." I pause as the puzzle pieces come together slowly in my head. "I'm... your girlfriend?"

She smiles warmly, making that Doy noise again, and holds out a piece of apple, which I take with an eager mouth. "Well, you were before the accident. I'd like to think you'd like to continue it... I won't push." I swallow, and open my mouth again, acting like an underfed baby bird. She chuckles and holds out another piece of fruit. As I chew, she continues. "We can go slow, of course... Since you don't remember anything. Slow is good... you may end up hating me for the physical conditioning we'll have to go through later anyways..."

She seems to be winding down... to sadness, and I'm not sure why. "Is... it a bad thing to be your girlfriend? I'm willing to try... I mean, I'm already your partner in crime, apparently, so this isn't that much different, right? You fed me with poultry, and you seemed sad when I wasn't waking up... and you're the only person I've seen so far, so I'm sure you're a good person." I mean, none of my other... friends, I guess, or even family, have shown up to visit. Sure, I've only been awake for a couple of hours, but still...

She smiles at me as I think, chewing another piece of fruit thoughtfully. "Where are we, by the way?"

"Underground. It's our safe house... a couple months ago, one of our targets didn't go as planned, and ... I guess you hit your head. I didn't see for sure, but alls I know was that you didn't get up when I moved you. Didn't for a long time."

"Oh."

The silence is awkward this time, and I can see she's getting a little uncomfortable, so I smile at her. "What was the accident anyway? What was the target?"

"There was some big expo, and all these rare antiques and stuff were making there way around the country. We decided to be, well, us, and take one item at each of its stops. You said something about how the increase of security after each hit would exponentially increase the challenge for the next location..." I look at her blankly, and she chuckles. "Yeah, I didn't understand it either... but things started getting challenging after the fifteenth hit, and by the time we got to the twenty-fifth location, they'd caught on to our antics, and we got separated..."

She swallows hard, and I grab her hand, squeezing lightly. "When I realized your weren't with me, I got scared, and doubled-back to find you..."

* * *

_Shego ran hard, searching frantically with her eyes for any movement in the distance, any flash of colour, ANYTHING! that would let her know where her partner was. She didn't care about the guards, she'd stopped them pretty quickly after realizing that Cam wasn't with her. She knew that Cam should be able to take care of herself, but... these men had some pretty high-tech weaponry that they hadn't seen before._

_On one hand, Shego was kind of happy about that, because that meant that the world was watching. It would be on the news! 'Shego and Camellia, the internationally wanted master thieves, strike again!' That would get them publicity... again. And the expo people knew they were being toyed with; if they'd wanted, they could have taken everything that first time... but the increasing challenge was good for them. Kept both of them on their toes._

_But where the hell was Cam? Shego was on the verge of panicking, so... It'd be nice to find Cam. Really. For the sake of her sanity._

_Over the wind howling by her ears, due to her speed, Shego heard a squelching fleshy sound, and turned towards it. She knew that sound: the sound of a weak downed thing being tortured and hurt. She's heard it from the source before, and hated it. She found herself at an alleyway, because that's totally cliche, and..._

_Cam was on the floor, and the men were standing around her, with sneers on their faces. That wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be the men on the ground, with Cam standing triumphantly. There'd be a happy "I won! It's no big!" from her, a happy embrace, but... nothing. Not this time._

_Shego saw red. It wasn't a pretty red either... and it quickly became green. Those men wouldn't stand a chance._

_When it was all said and done, Shego checked on her partner... the squelching sound had come from kicks to the head. Monsters who got what was coming to them. She gingerly picked Cam up, and carried her away... praying to any higher power that Cam would wake up... and soon._

* * *

"Thank God you were there! But... green?"

She holds up her hand, and suddenly there's green glowing vapor-thing flowing around it. I go to touch it, and... it's warm, and I can feel it slithering around my fingers, almost like a caress.

"Wow..."

There's really no other word for it.

"Like my plasma, princess?" I nod wordlessly, completely in awe of this amazing beautiful writhing green... thing. I interlock our fingers, reveling in the caress of her... plasma. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her relax from the tense stressed position she'd been holding since she started telling me about what happened. There's a shrug, and she says, "I just turned it on full destructivity, and... well... they got what was coming to them." She smirks at me. "Your butt always needs saving when I'm around, Princess."

I look up at her, and blink innocently. "Oh really? From who?"

There's a wolfish smile, and I swear she looks like the cat ate the canary. She's leaning forward, and if she thinks I don't see this coming from a mile away, she's insane. I initiated it, I'm the one using blatant innuendo. And she's bad to the bone, obviously, in a good way. As bad as me, I should think. It hurts to be predictable...

The closer she gets, the harder it is for me to keep a wry grin off of my face. When her lips are millimeters from mine, she huskily whispers, "Me..." and softly, tenderly, kisses me.

I just said I could see this from a mile away. I never said it wouldn't blow me away anyway. I can't breathe much when we're sharing the same breath.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh! Hi! Um... Yes. An update. Yay me!

If you're following Veronica Shih... I'll have something up for that soon. The third chapter's half done, I'm just trying to see how to write this particular section I'm stuck at... But I should be all good soon. Also, I'm moving soon, and I have to set up internet and... stuff. The good news about that is that I get to write more without internet til I get internet. The bad news is that I can't come on to update... until I get internet. Or access free wifi.

For the record, I hate plot exposition as much as the next reader, so... I wanna get into the action soon on this one. I hate set up... Hopefully with more action comes longer chapters.

_In the Next Chapter:_I actually have no clue. Leave a comment letting me know how it should continue... But... nothing too steamy, since I"m not all that sure I can write that just yet... If I use your idea, you get a shout out! And one billion theoretical dollars, and maybe even some theoretical muffins...


	3. The world's most expensive painting

**Disclaimer:** Wherein the author admits to using other people's property for personal satisfaction, but without any monetary gain at all

* * *

She's pulling away. Her lips aren't on mine anymore... when I try to follow, something is physically pushing me away: her hands...

Something is desperately wrong.

"We're moving way too fast..." She says. I don't care; it was good. Great, actually. With my new lack of experience, I'm close to saying perfect. Not that I'd know any better... I let her know, and she scoffs painfully at me. "No... You don't even know who you are yet. I...'ll try to control myself until you do."

And she just leaves. Just... Ups and leaves the room. She doesn't even say anything else to me.

Thanks. At least she removes the IV drip first...

But now I'm motivated to know who I am! What an incredible motivation! More of... that... mind-blowing experience would be nice.

Better than nice, really.

I flop back onto my pillow, and close my eyes for just a second.

* * *

_Darkness._

_Red on orange, black, blue, pink. Red on everything._

_Explosions, fire, screaming, running, panting, why, God, WHY?_

_Gunshots, wind, impact, a flash of green, pain, blissful, blissful pain, and earth-rending silence._

_The darkness continues._

* * *

What the fu-

Oh, a dream. That was... not fun. Apparently I was sleeping, and dreamt about...?

I don't remember anymore. I'm just sure it wasn't pleasant.

Well, I know I feel ridiculously gross, and a shower would be nice. It might help me shake that... unpleasantness from the dream, whatever it was. As would using the bathroom. I drag myself out of bed, and make it to the door when it abruptly swings open and knocks me off my feet. Either I've lost a lot of weight while bedridden, or I was always meant to be airborne, because the force of the door sends me flying.

These crazy reflexes of mine are obviously unaffected by my apparent amnesia, however, because I'm all flips and cartwheels and... apparently barely on my feet. Yet somehow, Shego seems completely unimpressed. Was I better at this whole... reflex thing before the accident? I desperately want to ask her about that.

"Pumpkin." A greeting, I'm sure... "You're out of bed?" She is unamused, and cocks an eyebrow as she strolls over to me. There isn't even a smirk, which is kind of frightening.

"Well, you ran out after..." I, evidently, am not supposed to be out of bed. Wild gesticulating can only make my fate worse, so I stop.

"That's not an answer to my question, Camellia." Uh oh, full names, and her arms are crossing over her chest. Wild gesticulating will never happen again, I swear.

"Yes, Shego, I'm out of bed. Before you ask why, it's because I had to go to the bathroom. Come to think of it, I was chasing you, because I don't remember where the bathroom is, and I desperately am in need for a shower, and I haven't used the facilities in way too long, and-"

"You're rambling..." Her face screws funnily, and she chuckles, pulling me into a hug. Apparently unamused Shego is actually 'trying to hide amusement' Shego. I probably knew how to read her better before. "Be careful; you don't know your limits anymore. I don't even know your limits anymore." Well, you have a distinct advantage on me; you know what my limits were... But I don't say that, and I feel her smile as she tightens the hug. "I'm sorry for rushing things earlier..."

"Don't apologize; I liked it." A lot more than you'll ever know. "And you obviously care." Against all better judgment, I pry myself loose from her arms, and look her in the eye. "About that bathroom..."

* * *

The stranger in the large floor-length mirror keeps mimicking me, and I'm tempted to ask her to stop. Her green eyes take in my form, in all its naked waifish glory. Well, I'm to assume that being fed nothing for several months except through an IV drip will do that to someone. Evidently, the stranger in the mirror doesn't like this fact, and furrows her red eyebrows. I lean in closer as the copycat follows my lead, again, and I note with complete disdain that her eyebrows have not been tweezed in way too long. She seems to agree with my assessment, and smirks in a completely Shego-esque way. She flips her much-shorter-than-shoulder-length messy red hair and crosses her arms over her smallish breasts, standing confidently, as if better than me. And yes, she is a natural redhead. Irish perhaps?

"Are you quite done?" Asks the Shego from behind my reflection. Said reflection nods in unison with me before I turn around.

"I have red hair... that must be hard to hide from cameras," I muse, fingering it a little.

"Not if you usually keep it shorter than how you have it now. Usually it's a pixie cut, and this is the longest it's been for a while. All you have to do is wear a hat." Ah, that's convenient.

"Maybe I should-"

"Don't change it. I like it better this way, and as it gets longer, we can work on getting even better than you were before." I glance at her, and turn to look in the mirror again. She has green skin, so she knows what she's talking about. I mean, if she's picked up by any camera at all, she'll be identified. Slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

She wraps her arms around my torso, and I can feel her drawing light feathery circles on my hips. My very naked hips. If the mirror is to be believed, I am blushing bodily, and she is leering at my equally naked breasts. I'm naked. Oh God, since when? What? I reach up to rub my face in a desperate and futile attempt to get rid of my horrid blush. Blush, ha! That's an understatement, I'm practically glowing like a traffic baton.

"I've missed that too," she breathes as she plants a soft whisper of a kiss on my shoulder, and lets me go. "Go take your shower; I'll have something ready for you to wear when you get out." I gawk at her, but she's leaving, and... Heh, butt... Back and forth and back and...

Did she just sashay?

"And stop staring at my ass, Princess." The door closes behind her, and I shake off my... Shego-induced stupor.

Take it slow. Right. I'm sure we can do it.

I turn on the shower and jump in- COLD! COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COL– Oh wait, not so much anymore. I stop jumping around, and just let the water sluice over and onto my body as it slowly gets warmer, allowing me to ponder more about this amnesia of mine. I find it strange that I know things, but I have no idea who and where I learned them from. For example, I know that the shower is a little extravagant, with its large marble tiles and multiple wall and ceiling jets, but I have nothing in my memory to compare it to. This is all more than mildly frustrating.

The calming effects of the shower do nothing to take away my unease, and when I get out and towel down, I'm still puzzling over what I know and don't know. I'm also working myself up to a spectacular headache, so I decide that thinking isn't the best idea at the moment.

Shego's choice of clothing is admittedly more green than I'd like (though it looks pretty good with my hair), but it'll have to d–

Wow... If the reflection is anything to go by, Shego has excellent tastes. I smile a little and walk out, letting my hair air dry.

If I remember correctly, it's a right here, and a left... Then another left at the Pollock's No. 5, and... The door beside the Picasso. I open the door and see Shego sitting by my bed with more food, and a somber expression on her face.

She perks up as I walk in, and smiles weakly at me, erasing the... not-so-happy face that was gracing our presence before that. I ask her what the hell is bothering her, because the smile on her face is obviously forced. She shakes her head, telling me it's really nothing, and I don't have to worry, because it really is nothing. She even has the gall to smirk and asks if I'd like her to pinky swear with me if it'll make me feel better. I laugh at her, and suddenly it's not as serious as I thought it was, and she's telling me that she has to go talk to her two-bit employer about quitting, which brings me to a pretty obvious question, that I'm pretty sure I should have asked before.

"If we steal for a living, and we're good at it, why do you have a job still?"

She shrugs, smirks, and says, "College loans are a bitch." It's obvious she's lying, but she obviously doesn't want to answer, so I don't pester the only known person in my current existence.

She hands me a turkey sandwich (Oy, more poultry?), and chews on her own thoughtfully.

"When I get back... I'm not looking forward to coming back. You're probably going to hate me." I look at her questioningly, mouth too full of delectable cranberry sauce-covered turkey and starch to actually voice my question, and she indulges me, "Rehab. It'll suck."

Oh. She's said this a couple times already, but I'm not in horrible shape, am I? I ask her, and she just laughs at me, nearly spitting her drink in my face. Note to self: she is a drink sprayer; never time questions during drinking.

"You're in pretty good shape for normal people, and your reflexes are still pretty good, but..." She trails off, and I'm left to assume that she can't find the right words. "Well, I'm a master thief, right?" I nod. "Did you even see me move when I took the apple earlier today?" I shake my head, confused as to why this... OH.

Currently I can't even really do much running without panting. I wouldn't last a chance out in the real world...

"Well, we'll see what happens, anyway." She stuffs the last of her turkey sandwich into her mouth, and we both chew in silence. When she's done swallowing, she tosses a crudely sketched map onto my lap, tells me that there are hidden little bundles of proof of our relationship status in the highlighted rooms, and sandwiches and milk in the kitchen. And that I am by no means to touch any of her kitchen appliances in any way, because I am... apparently very incompetent in the kitchen? She mentions explosions while loudly guffawing at my expression of horror.

Knowledge is power, but ignorance would have saved me several facial arteries, I'm sure.

She kisses me on the cheek, still fighting chuckles, and tells me that she'll be back soon, tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. And to be careful: if one of the doors is locked, don't go in. For God's sakes, don't go in, because you could very well stumble upon dead bodies or a training room filled with traps, lasers and other frightening things.

I tell her that she reminds me of Bluebeard, and she laughs at me, ruffles my short hair as I pout, and walks out of the room with a wink.

Right, I'll look for the parcels of the past life after I sleep some more. Obviously I'm still not used to being awake for long periods of time, and those flips, cartwheels, and giggles wreaked havoc on my stamina...

* * *

**A/N:** My primary goal with this author's note is to apologize for not updating for... nearly 2 months. I have a legitimate excuse, but it's still an excuse, so I won't say anything.

My secondary goal is to thank my editor, alpha reader, and all around great mentor, Albrecht Starkarm, for being so encouraging and all around amazing. And for:

i) writing amazingly awesome reviews and comments, and giving amazing advice. Then offering to do edits for me. OMG.  
ii) keeping me sane by suggesting some quite amusing things that I could do to my boss.  
iii) attempting to push me out of my writing comfort zone, and to grow as a writer.

Mr. Starkarm has amazing stories on this here site, so go check him out! Like, now!

My tertiary goal is to say... I think I'll be updating this slowly but steadily. I have a general idea of how and where I want this to go now, so... I figure that I should be able to go with it. However, (insert typical boring author excuse here), so it'll put a little damper on this.

My... (what's after tertiary? The internet says:) quaternary goal is to say that, yes, readers, I do read comments. I don't usually respond to them, unless I feel particularly moved (aka to tears/awe) by them, but I read everything ya'll say. So thanks. And if you don't comment/review/subscribe/whatever, there's not pressure to. But I appreciate everything ya'll do. I even do the whole "WHO READ THIS WHEN OMG WHO READS THIS IN WHAT COUNTRY" (aka hit count watching) every once in a while, so it's nice to know that people care enough to read this.

My quinary (yay for the internet) goal is... Iunno. This author's note is long enough, so I'll shut up now.

_In the Next Chapter:_ Shego quits and Cam looks for things.

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...p.s. senary, septenary, octonary, nonary, and denary come after quinary. And apparently there's nothing for 11th, but 12th is duodenary._  
_


	4. I miss you already

**Disclaimer:** I am incredibly disheartened to inform you that I am unable to say, truthfully, that any of these characters are mine.

* * *

I open my eyes to near silence, only broken by the sound of dripping across the cavern. I'm assuming a couple of hours have passed... there's no way to tell how much time passes down here, because there's no sun, and I haven't seen any clocks. Enough time, however, has passed that the dripping from the stalactites informs me that I need to relieve myself. Again. To the bathroom I go, then.

As I'm leaving, I remember to grab the rough map Shego left me... might as well check out some of the rooms that are on the way back from the bathroom, I guess... The bathroom was... right, then left, then right again... or was it two rights, then left... crap. I should have been checking the map... Ah, it was two rights... Well, no harm done. I don't have to relieve myself so severely; I can check out this highlighted room that's just down the hall. Third door... there.

I push the door open to see a small room with a massage table surrounded by unlit candles and a hot tub in the corner. There's something... I see a little inscription on the leather of the massage table, "To Cam, from Shego, with love. Happy Anniversary!" Something warm and fuzzy crawls into my belly, and a smile creeps, unbidden, across my face... that's decidedly cute. I'm guessing I like massages? I kind of want one now...

I look around the room for something more telling, but I don't see anything else, besides massage oils and bath salts, so I double back for the bathroom, and finally relieve myself.

The bathroom is the same as before, with its subtle opulence, but I suddenly wonder how we managed to get indoor plumbing underground... that seems like a difficult endeavor, to say the least. One that would require drills, and lots of obvious tools. Somehow, underground lairs seem like they would be really difficult to set up surreptitiously.

I shake my head, amused, wondering slightly if that ever popped into my head before I lost my memories. If authorities just looked for building equipment that was done without a permit, it'd be much easier to capture villains that built lairs, underground or otherwise... I shake my head, scoffing. Thank goodness I'm not on the side of the good, then, I guess. I finish washing my hands, and step out.

The next room that's close is... two doors down, to the right. The door's slightly stuck when I push on it... I think, in my coma, I must have lost some muscle mass or something. It definitely seems like it. Wait, if I remember correctly, something about mass and acceleration and force... Since I can't really change the mass, if I increase my acceleration... I run and leap into the door, and it bursts open with a bang, causing me to fall remarkably onto the ground. F=ma, right, gotcha. Also, I should try to remember that ground is hard, especially when stone. It was remarkable how I could fall without hurting myself, though...

I get up and brush my palms off

The room is small and dark, but there's a television set playing soundlessly... it seems to be a sex tape. The grainy footage shown is moving erratically, and there's Shego there, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed. The holder of the camera is hidden, but... I turn up the volume, only to hear Shego's breathy gasp of "Cam, God, yes," and my face is now on fire. Off, please... oh my.

The screen is dark, and it's silent in the room again, but the few seconds of Shego's moans and gasps I just heard echo in my mind... I feel a warmth trickling down my stomach, pooling and tingling in my loins, and quickly run out of the room.

Yes, that's... yes. Wow... I'm... okay! That was... just... yeah. Wow. Who knew the old me would do something like that? Freaky... but incredibly, incredibly sexy... Though I swear, every time I hear her say my name, it sounds kinda different... kinda like Kim.

Next room then... This one's bigger, and it has a sunlight! Oh, that's nice! That, and a fireplace, apparently... there's some photos on the wall... pretty artistic, I must say.

There's one of me on a bed... though I have no idea where this is. There's another of me by a window. It seems, at one point, I had longer hair... that's interesting. There's a bunch more, all over the place, and it's really quite exciting to see snapshots of my life, even if it's confusing, seeing as I don't actually remember it anymore...

The next room is a ways away, near the kitchen, and has a box full of little nauseatingly sweet notes from me to Shego... Apparently I'm the less badass one in this relationship, unless we're in bed. Like, much less.

Shego = love, all night long? Really? Or... I just saw you ten minutes ago, but I miss you already? That's so incredibly sappy! It's all in that loopy cutesy writing... Was I some sort of goody before meeting Shego? I'll definitely have to ask her when she gets back.

I'm actually decently hungry, so it's fitting that, on my odd path through the cavern, the next place for proof of my relationship with Shego is in the kitchen. I can see she wasn't kidding about not touching the appliances... There's colourful post-it notes on everything.

Don't touch anything, you'll blow it up.

You're not to use the waffle iron. Just... no.

Do NOT touch the blender; last time you did, it took me forever to clean, and I'm not doing that again.

I giggle at that, because, really, the marked difference between our notes to each other is really telling; our personalities are remarkably different. I'm learning more about myself each room I go to.

There's ham sandwiches in the fridge (I guess I'm not Jewish, then), along with turkey, chicken, egg salad, and roast beef ... Way too many, really, for how long she said she'd be gone. I grab a random sandwich, pour myself a cup of milk, and sit at the counter, eating.

I wonder when Shego's coming back from wherever she is. I never asked what she did at her job... maybe I should have. She couldn't have had a steady job as a thief while also taking care of me, so it had to be something different. From what I can ascertain, our thieving days needed a lot of moving around, so she couldn't be doing that and caring for me consistently...

The map, however, seems to have a lot of rooms unmarked... it seems like there are many more rooms than the ones I've visited today. I actually wouldn't put it past Shego to lock most of them for until she gets back. It'd be cool if I could get into one of the locked rooms, though I have a feeling that's something I won't be able to do now, no matter how awesome I was at one point. Exploring the underground mansion seems like a good thing to do right now... Keeping the map handy should be useful as well I think.

* * *

The halls in the area I'm wandering right now are entirely uninviting, completely unlike the halls by the bathroom and the room I'm sleeping in. They're blank, dimly lit, and narrow, and they smell kind of like mold. There aren't very many doors in this area, and all of them thus far have been locked. It's kind of discouraging, but intriguing at the same time. I'd attempt a lock picking maneuver (how hard can that be?), but they're all code-locked automatic sliding doors, and I have no idea what the code could possibly be.

The door in front of me, however, is different from the other ones, with strange engravings on the front, and there's no keypad, just a button, so it doesn't seem very locked. That, and buttons are always tantalizing... just asking to be pushed, really.

The door suddenly flies open, and Shego walks out. I greet her as the door hisses closed again, and she turns to me with a slight scowl on her face. "Why are you here?" I shrug, and tell her something about exploring, and her scowl deepens a little. "Don't do that down here... it's dangerous. Asbestos or something." My eyebrow just broke the record for fastest eyebrow-up-forehead climb, but she just walks back the way I came. When she notices that I'm not following, she turns around. "Coming?" I nod, and scuttle after her.

"That didn't take as long as you thought it would..."

"What do you mean?" She's not slowing down much, and I jog a little to catch up. "I was away for quite a while!" I slept more than I thought, then... "I'll give you the rest of the day off, but tomorrow we start intensive training." She slows considerably, but I can still see her, tense and more than a little on edge.

"Hey..." I touch her lower back, and she flinches slightly. "Did it not go well or something? Your boss not take it well?"

Her hair hides her face, despite me being right next to her. "You could say that... But Blue Boy doesn't matter, really. I'm out, and that's all that matters." A pause, then she turns to me with a smile on her face. I relax, unaware I was even tense in the first place. "Wanna watch TV?" I shrug, and smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Apparently going through the back hall instead of the side hall had been a bad idea before, because now that I've walked down the side hall and into the entertainment room, I don't want to leave. Big screen TV, amazing sound systems, and just... the furniture is luxurious and soft. I see Shego sit on one couch, and I vault over it, and snuggle into her side. "I missed you today..."

I feel side shake as she chuckles. "Did you now..."

"Human contact is important, you know... especially for convalescing patients." There's a full on laugh now as she reaches for the remote, and the television pops on to reveal a short and curvy older redhead in front of many microphones, cameras snapping into her face. I see two twin boys standing beside her, as well as a much older version of the two boys standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. They all seem distressed, and the redhead is crying. Before the sound system can kick in, Shego changes the channel.

"I hate watching the news," she deadpans. She keeps flipping the channel until it's on some random movie, and turns to look down at me. "So how was your day?"

"Decent... was I really that nauseatingly sweet?" She nods, chuckling. "Oh, wow... that's lame."

She shakes her head. "It's okay, you brought that side out in me too... I just hid it better most of the time. Still do, apparently." Her hand is running through my short hair, and I move closer, completely content. Pretty soon, the incredibly boring movie coupled with her hand in my hair lulls me to sleep, but not before I hear her whisper, "I'm sorry..."

* * *

**A/N:** Hi! Remember me? I'm writing for another fandom, as well as this one for KP, so it's a little... ya.

But, I haven't forgotten this fic. I _do_ want to finish this one, because it feels like a magnum opus or something... because I prefer this writing style, even if it's much harder to write. This is my practice piece for, like, my future. So it will not be forgotten.

Also, my editor (Batman, aka Albrecht Starkarm) is awesome, and deserves all kinds of accolades. His writing is all kinds of magnificent. Also, his wife is magnificent, and just sent me the most hilarious doodle. I died of laughter, just so they know. Legitimately.

Here's hoping you enjoyed this chapter!

_In the next chapter:_ Time skip! Planning, onwards and outwards ahoy!


	5. Shehulk

**Chapter 5**

"Have I told you exactly how much I hate y-OW!"

"Yes, Pumpkin, you have." Shego chuckles lightly as she works out the knots in my back. I hate her for how hard she's pushing me, day after day. I hate her for how she never lets me stop. I hate her for always saying, "It'll be worth it," when I really don't see how that could be possible. I hate her for never giving me any time to process what she's reteaching me, or letting me find out who I am. I hate how I can't actually hate her, no matter how much I want to. I hiss as she hits a particularly sore spot, flinching.

To say the massage table is seeing use would be an understatement.

"You know, She-hulk, I've been wondering..." I can feel her grimace at the nickname, but I could really care less, at this point. I'm a ball of soreness and pain, and it's all her fault. The least she could do is give me some concessions by putting up with some stupid nicknames.

"Yeah, Cam?"

"Did you get me this massage table because you always beat me up in training? Or because I liked being pampered?"

"Both." I can practically feel the smirk through her fingertips. Oh, but what wonderful fingertips they are... If I didn't trust her with my life, I'd worry about the plasma, but she knows what she's doing, even if she's a bitch about it.

There's a marked increase in physical ability on my part, but it hasn't been easy.

Did I mention I hate her for not going easy on me?

"Tomorrow we're working on your landings... they were a little wobbly yesterday." Because she'd made me run a marathon and a half before. "Oh, and I think we should work on whips tomorrow as well... it shouldn't take you too long to get that down." My limited downtime is always filled with her mental lists. I am, as usual, incredibly displeased. "Wall climbing is in your near future as well... the less we have to rely on gadgets, the less we'll have to carry or worry about."

I twist to look at her, because this is just getting ridiculous! "Those stupid spies in your stupid movies use gadgets all the time!"

She pushes me back down onto the massage table, and kneads my back in silence. I'm a puddle of goo when she responds. "They never show the stupid gadgets

malfunctioning in those stupid movies. Nor do they show the consequences of that." Her hands still, and I'm severely tempted to turn around to look at her. "What if that... What if I don't get a second chance next time? What if I can't get to you on time?"

I don't fight it this time, I just sit up and hug her fiercely. The emotion in her voice is smothering me, and I just... I might not like her all that much right now, but she's still Shego, and she's still taking care of me the way she knows best. Her hands wrap around my naked torso, and I feel her kiss the top of my head.

It's times like this, when she's open and vulnerable, and she's not throwing low-energy plasma at me in a (very effective) attempt to push me in my workouts, that I remember why I'm doing this. I was someone to this woman once. And, well, she just wants that someone back... and it's the least I can do, I suppose. I can't fault her for that, really. I want to be that someone too... though I just really want to know who that someone is, in the grand scheme of things.

I feel her swallow, and when something wet falls on my hand, I don't have time to think before I'm kissing away her tears. I'm not sure where this is coming from, but it feels so right... so much like muscle memory or something, that I don't fight it. She sighs before leaning into me a little, clearly not pleased with having opened herself up in this way.

These random physical interactions have happened a few times since this whole physical rehabilitation started up, but we never question it, and she never pushes for  
more. I'm not sure what exactly more is, but I'm really glad she's not pushing for it, because I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Just thinking about that tape that she'd left on that one time... it makes me shiver every time, and something strange and unfamiliar stirs in my stomach just thinking about her voice...

Stop it, Cam. Now is not the time to perv on your... kind-of-maybe-ex-girlfriend-partner-person. She's clearly distressed. Perving on her sultry smooth voice and her gorgeous body and her luscious hair will get you nowhere. Nowhere good, anyway... not when she needs some other form of care. Of the non-sexual nature.

God, I hope I wasn't constantly perving on her before... This is so incredibly awkward.

"You know, Shego, I've been wondering something for a while now. Do you want your Cam back? Or... would you rather have me?"

I also hope I used to have a brain-to-mouth filter. Awesome.

She's become completely stiff in my arms, and I can tell, from the amount that I know her, that I've said something very wrong. Again. She extricates herself from my embrace, and glares at me.

"You are my Cam." She kisses me forcefully, as if proving a point, and I twine my fingers through her hair as she pries my mouth open with her tongue. When her tongue flicks on mine, all thought flees my brain. Her hands coax my legs apart, and I shiver when she steps between them, getting even closer to me, as close as she can, as if any distance would be the end of us. The gentle and firm way her tongue is massaging mine; the way, when I return the sentiment, she coaxes it into her mouth to suck lightly on it... I can't help but pull her hips closer as the warmth of my desire floods my stomach.

I don't want us to end. Not before we've even begun.

Pulling away, she rests her forehead on mine as she pants, her hands around my neck. I'm fascinated by the small string of saliva hanging between her mouth and mine. An intrinsic connection between us, undefined, fragile, but there nonetheless. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, softly tracing over a small healing cut almost reverently with the pad of her thumb.

"You're my Cam." She repeats it to me, the phrase almost a mantra, as she caresses me. Her touch causes a fire to burn deep within me, and I don't understand what exactly it is that's happening, but I wholly welcome it, leaning into her touch. She smiles at me, stepping back to look me in the eye. "Don't ever doubt yourself, Cam."

"It's just... I wish I could remember more... for you." I really do... I feel like I fail her so often, because I can't remember who I am, and I can't remember how to do things that, to her, seem so incredibly easy.

She shakes her head. "You don't need to." She maneuvers me onto my stomach before continuing the massage as if the last several minutes hadn't occurred, and my brow furrows.

She's so frustrating sometimes. Not only does she work me up, she also doesn't deliver, nor does she allow it to continue. I understand that she thinks I'm not ready for anything still, but I want her. Doesn't that count for anything?

* * *

Nights are the hardest. Laying alone in the cavernous room in complete darkness, I can't help but shiver.

It's nights when I feel loneliest. There's the thoughts that spiral around my head... the ones where I will never be enough for Shego, that I'll never know who I am, I'll never measure up to the old Cam.

I'll never know my family. I'll never know my old friends. I'll never know my childhood.

Somehow, that's the saddest one for me, but I know that, according to Shego, it's a sore subject for both of us, so I never bring it up. I so desperately want to, I've tried, but I'm always cut off.

Is it bad that it hurts?

It's nights that I pull myself into a fetal position under thin sheets and wonder. I wonder and imagine about my past. I wonder if I had a dog, siblings, allergies, favorite television shows... What was my favorite color? Food? Was I good in school? Who, other than Shego, was I close with? Did my parents know what I did for a living? Did they love me?

Or were me and Shego random anomalies in a pool of statistics; recluses that shirked the system, and worked only to take from it?

It's always in this deluge of thoughts that I struggle to sleep. Even as my body is exhausted, night after night, from the physical training Shego has me going through, my mind consistently decides to run a marathon.

I groan internally... tonight is even worse than most nights, but for completely different reasons. I'm going to wake up even more exhausted, and I'm going to hate myself for not being able to turn off my mind on command.

What was it Shego had said? "I think you're ready"? I wasn't entirely sure what that meant...

She'd pulled out a booklet and handed it to me, saying something about me having to study it tomor–today, I guess, because she'd planned everything out, and all I really had to do was read it while she went to collect supplies.

And while I really wanted to just read it, and know what we were doing, she wouldn't let me, pushing me to spar with her for another hour and a half, before I was practically collapsing of exhaustion.

But it was tomorrow now, wasn't it? I could read it. I clap my hands, still amused, even after these months, that a simple clap can turn on the lights, and grab the papers, yawning.

_"The Last Spike"_


End file.
